Chronicles of Islaverdes
by KerriganP
Summary: This is a collection of the Tales of the Bantogan Igira, the Great War.


**Chronicles of Islaverdes**

There were, in the lands of Kalibutan, two mighty clans, fighting for supremacy since the dawn of time. They were inhabitants of the two greatest nations, Islaverdes and Tierra del Fuego.

Islaverdes, a lush, tropical supercontinent surrounded by the sea of Lapita, lies in the northeast. It is the home of the monarchs of the Celestias, the light people, as they are called. The Celestias is governed by Zil, the fierce warrior-queen of this noble clan, who have ruled for five hundred years. Islaverdes has been the abode of these peaceful people, light of hair and fair of skin. They are called "light people" mainly due to their skin and hair color, and as much as the light-hearted and fun loving nature of these kinfolk.

For thousands of years, the Celestias have lived in peace, and rarely join wars, unless nearby cities or nations ask for aid. However, when the Celestias do dabble in war, awe and wonderment would fill the hearts of all who witness, for the when proud Celestia army marches through the ivory gates of Islaverdes, each warrior projects what are called the lightning aura, each warrior's armor is a throbbing, pulsating coat of lightning, making them look as if they are clad in electrical energy. Each warrior wields an electrum blade, an amalgam of platinum and gold. They say, however, that the greatest of these blades is the Electra, the longsword wielded by none other than Queen Zil herself. It is said that the Electra is a forged by the great Hephasto himself, the smith of the gods, and presented to King Lycander and Queen Marana as a wedding gift. It was their daughter, however, the former Princess Zil, who actually wielded the blade. The princess has been the king's champion since she was twelve years of age, a little more than a child, yet fully grown and strong, fierce as any warrior can be.

On the northwest side of Kalibutanon lies the snowy and frigid Tierra del Fuego, home of the warlike Hellions, said to be the sons and daughters of Marce, the war god. The Hellions are dark of skin and fiery-haired, fearsome of countenance and fierce in war. They say that no one has defeated the Hellions in war before. Not one army has yet withstood the ferocious aughisky mounts of the Hellions, flesh-eating and fire-breathing water horses. These horses are said to be the very ones stabled by Equus, the horse-god. It is said that a pair, a stud and a mare, where given to Khan Mogul and Rahni Jahan, the rules of Hellion, on their wedding day. The people have then learned to breed the horses, and yet, after nearly ten thousand years, the fierce blood still lingers these aughisky offsprings.

The fastest and most feral of these aughisky is the mount of Khan Rajah, the current ruler of the Hellions and the great great grandson of Mogul. Rjah's steed is named Bagis, the shark, for this horse hunts on its own, much like a lion or leopard. Each dusk, the Khan is said to unleash the horse on the nearby forest of Kalasangan, the large wild bordering Tierra del Fuego from Olympia, to hunt.

Due to Kalasangan's southeastern location, not many know that there is a small strip of land, virtually hidden by the thick foliage, which actually connects Tierra del Fuego to Olympia, the westernmost reach of Islaverdes.

The following stories relate how the conflict between the warring races began, as the much as the fading memory of Lapos, the scribe, who had witnessed and put into writing the accounts of various Mangi-alamon elders, can remember. Lapos, as the principal narrator, afraid that the real story will never be revealed, secluded himself in the deepest vault of the lost tower of Sangris, and began his composition of the lengthy history of the great war known throughout the days of Kalibutan. This is a collection of the Tales of the Bantogan Igira, the Great War.

**Chapter 1: Tragedy in the West**

Lapos' Journal Entry:

_ "Love can be found in the most unsuspected of places, and the most unsuspecting people. Who would have thought that, if only allowed to speak for themselves, the tragic lovers of this tragedy could have created the most powerful alliance, instead of starting the greatest war ever known in the world?"_

It is whispered that the Khan Rjah is seeking marriage. Women of the Hellion clan are beside themselves with excitement. The family of the Khan is known to marry anyone they want, and does not follow other societies in the traditional ways, where arranged marriages are the custom. When other kingdoms marry their sons and daughters with fellow nobles, the Hellions can marry whom they chose, even the kings.

Yet, the marriage of the king was never mentioned publicly. No announcements have been made. No invitations have been sent. As tradition dictates, when a Khan wants to be married, invitations are sent to all women, young and old, and they would travel to the capital, Snow Down, and flock to Blizzard Hall, the king's castle. These women would be presented to the king, much as a debutante is presented to the public, and the king makes his choice. Love is not such a large factor in marriage among Hellions. It is believed that a person, a man, who wishes to marry, will be guided by the gods, in choosing the correct mate. Arranged marriages are also practiced, however, if a man crosses the path of a woman whom he finds eligible, arrangements would be made within the day, provided that the woman is not yet married, or pledged to another.

It is believed that the very first queen of the Hellions, Rahni Jahan, was the king's younger brother's nursemaid. Yet, they were married that ten-day later and have lived for nearly a hundred years, before both succumbed to illness and passed away, leaving five children who ruled the land justly, never warring if who gets to claim the crown or who gets the throne. Succession was never a clash amongst the five siblings. When their own times of death approached, it was decided that of their firstborn sons, he who defeats the other four in single combat gets to become the new king.

And by whatever miracle, the thirteen-year-old Rjah, youngest and only son of the youngest sibling won and was proclaimed king, even before a drop of medication touched his bloody skin. The five older cousins knelt in front of the boy and swore allegiance, vowing never to usurp the throne.

It is these four older cousins that now confronted the king in his study, trying to find a common ground in the most important matter at hand – the Khan wished to marry Princess Galena.

"Cousin, you are asking the impossible," Raj Devak said in anguish. "You may marry any woman in Tierra del Fuego, anyone you wish, but we cannot deviate from that custom. Think of the future heirs you will sire."

Devak is the eldest of the Khan's cousins, who have witnessed fifty winters and forty-nine thaws. Devak still carries the erect and proud lineage of the Khans, directly descended from the Khan replaced by his father and brothers. The old man has crimson eyes, the color of overripe tangerines, but gentle and fatherly. Perhaps, time have softened the man, for he was the Khan's regent and champion, when Rjah was but a mere boy of thirteen. His flame-like hair is cut very short, almost like a red cap on his slightly oblong head. As a khan's counselman, he wears the dark robe of office, embroidered with fire-breathing aughiskies frolicking on snow-capped mountains. On his forehead is the gold band, much like a wreath of gold.

"The council of elders will never allow you to marry a foreigner," intoned Raj Anou, his other cousin. "The lineage must be preserved." Anou is about thirty winters, lean and supple like a snowcat ready to pounce, with a countenance much like the black snowcats found north. His yellow catlike eyes narrowed in indignation, while his bewhiskered cheeks flared. Anou is the second oldest of the Khan's cousins, and wears the robes much like that of Devak, but straps a leather sword belt around his waist, on top of the sash of his robe. Anou is called the mountain sabercat behind his back, an epithet that he silently likes.

"And if a refuse?" came the Khan's belligerent retort. "Would they send me to rot in the bowels of the crypts, like they did with your father"?

The Khan is a sight to behold, a young man of only twenty winters. Clad in the thinnest of platinum armor made especially in the verdant neighboring nation of Islaverdes, the khan stood nearly 6 feet, with eyes like crimson rubies, and hair like bloody waterfalls cascading midway his back. His skin was like translucent onyx, smooth and almost shimmery, a result of his daily dips in the Atria pools, the hot springs behind Blizzard Hall. A stout broadsword forged of steel and ice adorns his hip and platinum gauntlets and braces protect his hands and feet. The Khan is seated in a great wooden chair, set behind his oaken desk.

Blizzard Hall has a great throne room that can hold more than five hundred men, but the Khan prefers to deal with matters of stated in his study, a large opulent room adjoining his chambers. This is where he decides matters of import.

Anou draw an intake of astonished breath. His father had decided to marry a woman from Amanpour, a desert land in the Far East. The woman he brought home from an expedition nearly a decade ago.

"I did not mean to offend, Anou," the Khan amended. "I am merely stating that since our custom allows any man to marry whom he wishes, it does not limit the selections to women of Tierra del Fuego only. That practice was started when our ancestors have not yet realized that there are other lands beyond our borders with people."

Lchdan, the third man standing by the door shrugged. "I agree with the Khan," he said calmly, drawing four pairs of fiery red eyes on him. Lchdan run a slim, dark hand on his tousle of red curls and approached the desk where the Khan sits. "My king, it is high time that we, our generation, make new rules of governance. Expansion has been the greatest motivator of our people; however, marriage can also be a solid factor in creating alliances outside our realm."

The youngest of the four cousins, merely two winters older than the Khan himself, Lchdan is considered a maverick by his cousins. Standing about a head shorter than Rjah, Lchdan exudes the aura of a ladies' man and does not seem to hide that very fact in the impish gleam in his reddish-purple eyes. With hair like dying coals dotted with ember, may young maids swoon each time he passes by.

The Khan grinned. "I do not like your train of thoughts, dear Lchdan," Rjah stated with a shaking head. "I know what kind of alliance you have in mind, and you know that that is not what I want."

Lhcdan snickered, and then burst laughing. "I was merely supporting your notion. Can you imagine how many women –," and abruptly stopped when he noticed four pairs of crimson orbs eyeing him coldly, even that of the Khan.

"Keep your manhood where they are situated, Lchdan," came the warning from Wndigo, the other cousin sitting across the Khan from the desk. Since the discussion started nearly half an hour ago, Wndigo had remained silent, preferring to listen and analyse before saying anything. This noble of thirty and two winters is the Khan's master strategist and cleverest of the king's courtiers. He was even responsible for the selection of Devak as head counselman to the Khan.

Wndigo stood up, towering at nearly 7 feet, but has a limp due to an accident when he was a boy of five winters. A snow serpent bit him when he was gathering berries with his mother. Although the venom did not kill him, it paralyzed nearly half his left leg, and he was never able to walk properly since. In fact, he did not join the contest for the crown seven winters ago. He knew he would never be able to compete against his able-bodied cousins, and only opted to ask to be placed as one of the Khan's counselmen, when Rjah won the combat. He had been the Khan's eyes and ears ever since.

"If I ever learn of you mistreating a woman, any woman, Hellion or foreigner," Wndigo said through clenched teeth, "by the gods, I swear that even if I cannot walk, much less climb a mountain, I will truss you and drop you on the mouth of Mount Fuego myself."

Lchdan held up his hands and took a step back. "I did not mean to imply anything, Cousin Wndigo. I was merely suggesting to our Khan that alliances are not just done by means of war, but by means of swords as well, if you know what I mean." This he said with a knowing grin.

Rjah rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy breath, creating an icy cloud in front of him. "I see where this getting to. I say, we put a stop to this now and let me think." He got up and motioned to leave for his chambers when Devak laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You know that we would always be your loyal courtiers, Cousin, but bear in mind that you are Khan, and you have your people to look after," Devak pleaded.

When the Khan turned to face him fully, the old man added, "You may be in love with whoever it is, however, will she be gracious to our people? Will she accept to live in our snowbound land and refrain from starting anything against our laws and customs? Those are my personal reasons why a Hellion is the perfect mate for our Khan."

Rjah sighed. "I will ponder on your words and make a decision soon, Cousin Devak," the Khan replied. "For now, leave me be."

One by one, the counselmen shuffled out of the study and closed the heavy wooden door with the slightest sound. Rjah was left pacing back and forth, the treads of his platinum bracers dulled by the thick pile of snowcat skin carpeting the icy marble floor.


End file.
